For Educative Purposes
by SpacePrincess'xo
Summary: What if we were to rewind the years, to when the staff at Seattle Grace were young, drunk and innocent college students? And what if there was a bar in this college town, in which Meredith Grey was drowning her sorrows one evening? And what if a heartbroken Derek Shepherd just happened to be doing the same thing? MerDer/Addek/Maddison/Izzie&Alex. T for now.
1. Take a Bow

**Hey everyone :). This is my first ever** ** _Grey's_** **fic. Predominantly about the MerDer/Addek/Maddison love triangle, though there'll be your fair share of Izzie/Alex and the odd sarky one-liner from Cristina as well.**

 **What if we were to rewind the** **years? Maybe to college. When the staff at Seattle Grace were in their teens and twenties, and permanently drunk, and studying, and getting used to living away from home. What if there were still a bar? And Meredith happened to be in there, drowning her sorrows? And what if a heartbroken McDreamy just happened to wind up there as well? MerDer's story, many years before. The beginning will greatly mirror the show, with a bit more alcohol and a lot more sex. If that's possible. T for now, will probably become M, unless I can get Derek and Meredith to stay away from one another.**

 **Also, I'm not American; I live in the UK. So I have no idea about the American education system, or other things that are country-specific, so I've based a lot of this around how our education system works in the UK. Hope that's okay with everyone. :)**

 **As I said before, this is my first** ** _Grey's_** **fic. Reviews would be greatly appreciated, and I promise I will take any feedback on board. I'll also listen to what you all want to see. Reviews are scrumptious. xoxo**

For Educative Purposes

As a surgeon, you eventually realise that one moment, one second, can change a life forever. For some, this realisation hits sooner than expected. When it does, the bolt of shock that strikes your body is almost indescribable. You're numb, speechless, tingly, and the notion that nothing lasts forever suddenly leaves an eternal imprint on your brain. At least, that was how the experience had felt to Derek Shepherd, though his brain was marked with an imprint of a different kind.

Conscientious, studious, 'normal' Derek was about to enter his senior year at college and, despite the hard graft and tedious labour that he was putting into trying to gain a place at a top medical school, he had never felt more content. Though he had come from a fairly stable family background, his college years had exceeded that stability, and that was all because of Addison. But in one moment, one second, Addison had shattered that stability. Forever.

"Derek, please!" Addison sobbed, flying down the stairs of their apartment building two at a time in pursuit of her fuming fiancé. As Derek paused in front of the main door that led outside, she too halted. "I… It was just a mistake. One big, stupid mistake, and I… It meant nothing, Derek. Nothing." Derek drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it, trying to soothe the bubble of anger that was growing in the pit of his stomach at the sound of her shrill voice and piteous excuses. He turned to face her, his heart lurching with hurt as his bright blue eyes met hers. Even now, when her luscious red hair was pulled back out of her face, revealing mascara-smeared cheeks and blotchy skin, an effect of the hour-long screaming match that had just occurred, she looked beautiful.

He shrugged. "What do you want me to say, Addison? I feel sick to look at you."

"We can make this work," Addison insisted, reaching for the sleeves of his shirt and gripping on tightly, desperation plastered across her face. "We can just give it time, and we can make it work. We're Addison and Derek. We're us. Derek, I'm nothing without you-"

"Well, get used to it!" Derek snapped, shaking her off of him and grabbing the door handle, wanting nothing more than to get rid of her and lie down and sleep for the next year. Outside, the rain was lashing at the ground; he could feel the drops spitting on him as they bounced off of the door frame. "Get out."

"Please, Derek, don't do this-"

"Dammit, Addison! I said get out!" In a moment of pure anger that was completely out of character for the collected student, Derek grabbed Addison by the shoulders – though nowhere near forcefully enough to hurt her – and pushed her outside into the hideous September weather, promptly slamming the door shut behind her. He cringed as she hurled herself against it, banging her slight, tender fists against the glass in anguish, crying his name so much so that her voice strained. He couldn't do this. He couldn't sleep in their apartment, in their bed, where he'd seen… He needed to get out, so he quickly hauled the door open and pulled her sobbing form inside.

"Oh, god, Derek. Thank you. Thank you. I promise, it won't… I couldn't. It's over, I promise you," Addison rambled, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes. Derek scoffed, shaking her off of him once again and, without uttering a word, headed out into the rain, and continuing across the dark courtyard. Addison continued to cry his name from the hallway, but he refused to look back. He didn't know where he was going, he just knew that it had to be far away from the woman who he had intended to spend his life with.

ooooo

What was the purpose of freshman year? Meredith Grey had presumed that its purpose was to have fun, makes friends and drink lots and lots of tequila. It wasn't supposed to be a year devoted to textbooks and studying, and lectures, and sobriety. That was for med school, or, at a push, senior year. Freshman year was supposed to be exciting. So far, her flat, consisting of a shared kitchen and bathroom and four tiny square bedrooms, was empty with the exception of herself. She didn't know if it was some cruel trick of nature, or if her mother had telephoned the college and demanded that Meredith be given a flat to herself to avoid distraction. She wouldn't put it past her. Luckily, Meredith had bonded with a sarcastic yet fun-loving girl from the flat opposite, who had found herself stuck living with a bunch of 'self-obsessed assholes', but Cristina had begrudgingly opted for an early night that evening, with their first day of lectures beginning at 10am the following day. Meredith didn't do early nights. She'd dragged herself to a local bar alone instead, hoping that some other borderline alcoholic freshmen had had the same idea. It seemed that most of the freshmen at Dartmouth College were starting out the year with good intentions.

"Do you ever feel different?" Meredith asked the cheery bartender, her voice slurred as a result of the numerous shots of tequila that she had already tipped down her throat. "I feel different. I want to be a doctor, I do, but… There's so much else to do. I'm not ready to sit in and work and focus. I like drinking. I like bars, I like going out, I like dancing. I like sex. Random guys, flirting, having fun, lots of sex. I don't know. I'm just not ready for that to all stop yet. Do you ever feel like that?"

The bartender chuckled to himself. "I'm twenty-nine, kid. This job is just for extra cash. By day, I'm a travel agent. I'm married, I have a sprog on the way. It stops, eventually. But yeah, I once felt different, too." Satisfied with his response, Meredith sighed, sliding her glass across the bar, which he refilled to the brim with tequila. Staring at the glass, she conjured up the blurry image of her mother in her drunken mind. She would be so disappointed if she could see her now. But that was part of the fun. Her thoughts were interrupted by the shadow that was suddenly cast over the bar.

"Single-malt Scotch, please. Double." Meredith glanced hopefully up at the figure above her, and her heart leapt at the sight of the attractive individual. His hair was dark, ruffled, slick with rain. His stubble framed his perfect jaw; masculine, and not too chiselled or angular. And his eyes. Even in her intoxicated state, Meredith found herself lost in their dreamy blue shade. Mr Perfect smiled down at her, though his smile seemed forced. "You want a drink?" Meredith shook her head, indicating her glass before lifting it to her lips and throwing her head back, downing the harsh liquid in one gulp. Once served, Derek mirrored her actions.

"Are you lonely-drinking too?" Meredith asked, intrigued by the mysterious stranger. Derek hesitated, the small smile returning and lingering on his lips for a moment.

"You could say that. I've had a bad night."

"Me too. You wanna talk?" Derek slowly shook his head, handing the bartender his glass.

"No. I want to drink."


	2. One Night Only

**Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! I'm really enjoying writing this fic, so I'm glad people are keen for me to keep going with it. And yes; it will be predominantly MerDer :P. This chapter is quite short so I'm sorry for that, but I didn't want to include the next section because it'd end up too long. Sorry again!**

 **Thanks again, the reviews mean a lot to me. Seriously.**

 **Chloe xoxo**

"So, have you always lived in Massachusetts?" Derek asked the pretty blonde girl. She'd told him her name, but he was in no state to remember it. She was pretty, and blonde, and small, and just as drunk as he was. Other than that, he couldn't recall anything about her. She shook her head.

"I was born in Seattle. We moved here when I was five."

"I've never been to Seattle."

"I don't really remember it. I remember the hospital, I went there a lot when I was a kid because my mom was a surgeon, but that's all," Meredith admitted, her head spinning at the vague memories of her childhood, scarpering around the wards of the hospital and watching from the gallery, intrigued, as her mother saved lives every day. "I don't want to talk about me, anyway. Me is boring."

"You're anything other than boring," Derek replied, smiling. "You ever tried Sambuca?"

"I don't drink Sambuca."

"You do tonight." He ordered them three shots each, one white, one black and one chilli-flavoured, and lined the six shot glasses up along the bar. He hadn't been drunk in a long time. He had spent most of his junior and sophomore years curled up on the sofa with-… His past. He wasn't intending on an easy night. "Whoever downs these first wins."

"What do we win?" Meredith's heart fluttered as Derek's blue eyes sparkled mischievously.

"A prize. Whatever you want. On three?" The pair counted down from three before speedily lifting each of the miniscule glasses to their lips and throwing their heads back. She hated the sting of the liquorice flavour, but Meredith was a pro-drinker, and she slammed her final empty glass down on the bar seconds before her competition.

"I win!" she sung, cheerfully. "What's my prize?" Derek shrugged, a small smirk playing on his lips, which were moist from the sticky Sambuca residue. Meredith couldn't help but notice this. God, his lips made her hands sweat. How was that possible?

"Like I said, whatever you want." _You_. Meredith blushed.

"I want another tequila," she demanded. Derek laughed, leaning across her to collect up her empty shot glasses. Meredith's skin prickled as he brushed against her, and he, in spite of his intoxication, picked up on this, turning his head to her. Their lips were only inches apart. Her eyelids fluttered shut, yet she could still sense his attractiveness, and she almost gasped in longing as his lips caught hers in a light kiss. His lips tasted like liquorice, but like heaven at the same time. He was gentleman enough to pull away slightly, just to check that she was okay. The lust in her eyes was signal enough for him, and he cupped her face in the palm of his hand as he kissed her again, this time running his tongue across her lower lip, his thumb brushing across her cheek. Meredith's own hands crept their way to rest against his chest, his strong, masculine chest, where she could feel the heavy beat of his heart. She didn't know if it was the poison coursing through her veins, but this kiss felt different to her. He was dreamy. It made her heart race as his tongue touched hers, and her body ache as he coaxed her to her feet, and moved his free hand around to cup her ass. She'd kissed a lot of guys, but McDreamy just felt different.

ooooo

Meredith groaned as she stirred the following morning. She tried to force her eyes open, but they were glued together with specks of heavy mascara. She felt dizzy, and there was an intense shooting pain in her head. Then, she remembered, and suddenly her self-inflicted ailments no longer mattered, as she leapt out of bed and threw on her dressing gown. It was the first day of term, and she was almost definitely going to be late.

She padded through the corridor towards the kitchen. She heard commotion behind two of the doors leading up to it; perhaps her flatmates had moved in. Upon entering the tiny kitchen, she gasped, startled, at the stranger hastily shoving on a pair of shoes and struggling into a leather jacket.

"Hi," she spoke, awkwardly folding her arms across her chest, pulling her dressing gown a little tighter around her slim body. The stranger rose to his feet and shot her a charming smile; suddenly, Meredith remembered that he wasn't a stranger at all.

"Hi," he responded, his own voice free from any hint of awkwardness, "Meredith, right?"

"Yeah, um… Daniel?"

"Derek."

Meredith forced a laugh. "Derek! Nearly there." A brief silence fell upon them, as Meredith nervously chewed the corner of her lower lip, before suddenly remembering that she was no longer living alone. And the last thing she wanted was for her new flatmates to think she was a drunken whore. Even if she was a drunken whore. "You should… You should go. My flatmates will be in in a minute and they don't know about the whole drunken whore thing. Or the me thing."

"I see." He smiled again. God, he was hot when he smiled. "Nice to meet you, Meredith." Meredith watched him leave, and breathed a sigh of relief as the front door clicked shut merely seconds before the door to the kitchen burst open, and in bounced two highly excitable puppy dogs. Or people, Meredith couldn't really tell. One of them, male, baby-faced and clean-shaven, froze at the sight of her. The other was an effortlessly stunning blonde, despite her lack of makeup. She grinned broadly.

"Hi!" she sung, far more cheerful and sugary than Meredith was used to so early in the morning, "I'm Izzie. Izzie Stevens, pre-med. I moved in about an hour ago." She paused, looking at Meredith expectantly. Meredith forced a smile.

"Meredith. I'm pre-med, too." And hungover. Really, really hungover.

"Looks like we're all pre-med then. This is George. He's nervous," Izzie explained, intentionally stepping on George's foot and causing a loud 'ow!' to escape his lips. George narrowed his eyes at his new friend.

"H-hi," he stammered, his cheeks turning pink as he met Meredith's gaze, "I moved in late last night." Meredith swallowed, her own skin prickling with embarrassment at the idea that her new flatmate had probably heard her in the throes of passion the night before. It wasn't something that would usually bother her, but she was stuck with these guys for the next year.

"Oh, you did? That's… Good." She cleared her throat. "I'm gonna go… Get ready, we have class in half hour. I'll see you there." Quickly, she brushed past the pair and disappeared into her room. Izzie shrugged.

"She seems… Cheerful."


	3. Teach Me Tonight

**Once again, thank you so much for the reviews, I really do take any comments into consideration. I can assure you, there will be plenty of MerDer. And will Mark and Addison make a reappearance? You'll have to wait and see ;).**

 **Chloe xoxo**

"Meredith, why do you look like someone beat you up and threw you in the river?" Cristina asked, bluntly, as Meredith approached her, slinging her heavy bag laden with textbooks over her shoulder. Meredith stopped in her tracks.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. You went out?" The pair resumed their walk towards the main college building, in which they were due to have their course induction in a few minutes.

"Of course I went out. It's Freshers' Week, the college bar was doing discounts on tequila," Meredith explained, pausing to chew on her lower lip before blurting out her concerns, "I think my new flatmate heard me having sex last night."

"You had sex last night?"

"That is not the problem here."

"Do I get sex details?" Cristina asked, eagerly, as they headed into the great auditorium and grabbed seats towards the back, so they could continue their conversation beneath the raised voiced of the Head of Medicine.

"You would, if I could remember them. There was a lot of tequila."

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Pre-Medical Program at Dartmouth University," came a booming voice above the ruckus of the student body, "My name is Dr Richard Webber, and I am the Head of Medicine at the school. I oversee your studies, and to do this, I'm helped by some of the very best of our senior students, all of whom are on their way to the best medical schools in the country, Dartmouth included. You will be supervised by one of our students on a small-group basis, alongside your regular lectures."

Meredith glanced up from a riveting conversation with one of her friends from high school over text message and frowned in confusion as she observed Dr Webber's appearance. She felt like she knew him. She knew that this was next to impossible, but there was an air of familiarity around him and she didn't understand why. He was a tall, stern-looking man with dark, coffee-coloured skin and caring eyes. Even his voice sounded familiar - she was sure she could sense a hint of a Seattle accent. She had been born in Seattle, and had lived there until she was five-years-old, before she and her mother had moved to Massachusetts. Her father still lived there, she presumed; she hadn't seen him since she'd moved away. Maybe that was why she recognised Dr Webber, maybe his accent merely reminded her of her father. But then Thatcher Grey was barely a memory to her as it was, it wasn't as though he had been a prominent figure in her life.

"Mer," Cristina hissed, nudging her in the side, "Did you not hear what I said?"

"Okay, firstly, ow," Meredith grumbled in response, tearing her eyes away from the mysterious Dr Webber and turning to her new friend, "And second, no, I did not."

"Who was the guy?"

"What guy?"

"Your bedtime buddy." Cristina sniggered, raising an eyebrow. Meredith sighed, looking down at her hands as she picked at her fingernails.

"I don't know," she admitted, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. She wasn't a prude in the slightest, however, she wasn't usually the type of girl who didn't even remember a guy's name the morning after. Sure, she'd had plenty of one-night-stands in her two years as a consenting adult, but underage drinking combined with the freedom of living away from home had hugely affected her judgement. "His name was Derek. He was very dreamy, and he had nice hair."

"Was he any good?"

"I think so." Suddenly, Meredith felt hundreds of pairs of eyes on her. Every student in the auditorium had turned to the back, and they all appeared to be staring at her.

"Young lady in the back row, blonde hair, purple sweatshirt." Dr Webber nodded to Meredith, apparently directing his question to her. His question that she hadn't paid any attention to. The eyes blinked at her expectantly.

"I… Er… I…" Meredith stammered, her eyes wide with panic. Dr Webber folded his arms across his chest.

"What's your name?"

"Meredith, sir. Meredith Grey." His face suddenly clouded over. He stared at the girl, unable to draw his eyes away from her for a moment. Meredith held his gaze, puzzled by the sudden glaze over his eyes. Then, he cleared his throat, snapping out of his haze and breaking their eye contact.

"Well, um… Welcome to Dartmouth, Miss Grey. You're all dismissed, your supervision groups are on the noticeboard outside this room, please go to the rooms allocated to meet with your supervisors." As the rest of the students rose noisily to their feet, Meredith hesitated, still frowning in confusion at Dr Webber's retreating back. She knew him. And, judging by his reaction, he knew her too.

ooooo

Supervisions. No student liked supervisions. Being stuck in a room for two hours at a time on a one-to-one basis with some poncy, stuck-up senior was nobody's idea of fun. Particularly when your supervision slot was scheduled at 9am on a Friday morning when the student night at the local bar happened every Thursday. Meredith and Cristina ambled sluggishly up the steep staircase to the room in which they were to meet their doom, tailed by Cristina's irritable yet ruggedly handsome flatmate Alex. The three had been paired with the same supervisor, who Meredith hadn't managed to catch the name of.

"So is your new sex friend at the college too?"

"Cristina!" Meredith snapped, her cheeks flushing as she heard a little snicker from behind her.

"What? We're all friends here, Karev's just a prude." Cristina shot back over her shoulder at Alex, who raised his hands in surrender.

"No judgement. If Meredith wants to start her college life as the Dartmouth Slut-"

"It was one night!" Meredith exclaimed in exasperation, pushing open the classroom door, "I met a hot guy, I had a lot of tequila, and before I knew what we were doing we were-". She stopped dead in her tracks, her pale green eyes widening and her mouth dropping open as the man dressed in a suit, who she had presumed to be her supervisor, turned to face them. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest as his piercing blue eyes met hers, his impeccably perfect hair making him impossible not to recognise. He, too, turned pale with shock, though he tried to mask this by forcing a smile.

"Meredith." He coughed, clearing the lump that appeared to have formed in his throat. "Good to see you again." Speechless, Meredith hastily made her way to the back of the room, selecting the seat the furthest away from her mystery man and sinking into it, avoiding both his gaze and that of Cristina, who had dropped down into the seat next to her and was staring at her quizzically, waiting for answers.

"Seriously, Mer? You screwed our supervisor on the first day of college?"

"Cristina!" Meredith hissed again, taking a quick peek up at Derek to make sure that he hadn't overheard. To her relief, he seemed just as keen to avoid making eye contact with her, particularly as other wide-eyed freshmen had begun to trickle into the the room. "Just drop it." She sank even further down in her seat, folding her arms on top of the desk and dropping her head onto them. She was still hungover, and her day just kept getting worse.


	4. Just Can't Get Enough

**Love you guys, thank you so much for the reviews :).**

"Okay, thank you, everyone, and I will see you all for your assigned supervision slot next week," Derek called loudly over the scraping of chairs as the students rose to their feet and began to file out of the classroom door. As Meredith made to pass him, he stepped slightly in front of her. "Meredith. Could I speak to you for a moment?" Cristina snorted, and Meredith shot her a scathing look as she reluctantly perched atop the desk directly in front of Derek, waiting for the last student to leave the room and for Derek to close the door behind them.

"What?"

"Don't 'what' me. Why didn't you tell me you were a freshman?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were a senior?"

"I didn't think I needed to."

"And I didn't think I needed to tell you that I was a freshman." Derek sighed, folding his arms across his chest as he leant against his desk, staring her down with the piercing blue eyes that were making Meredith's heart thud rapidly. For some reason. Probably the hangover.

"You were eighteen and drinking. A lot. I was obviously going to assume that you were older. God, it's going to look really bad if anyone finds out about this." Derek groaned, his head dropping forward into his hands as images of Dr Webber's disappointed face flooded his mind.

"Does it matter? It was one night, one big stupid mistake-"

"Of course it matters!" Derek suddenly snapped, her words sending shockwaves of pain through him, their familiarity only flaring the imprint in his brain. The one that Addison had left there. "I need this. The extra credit that I get from teaching will get me into Columbia. I've wanted to go to Columbia my whole life, Meredith, I.. I need this." Meredith had been startled by his temper, but her face had quickly softened once again. She knew how it felt to need to get away from everything.

"Then we'll forget it ever happened. We're just two people, maybe we met, maybe we talked, but that's all. That's all anyone needs to know." _Except Cristina_. "To be honest, I barely remember it anyway." Derek chuckled in spite of himself.

"That good, was I?" Meredith blushed, and a coy smile played on her lips as she toyed with the ends of her wild blonde hair, which cascaded down her back and looked imperfectly perfect, despite the fact that she'd barely had the energy to brush it that morning.

"That wasn't what I meant."

"I know." She raised her eyes to meet his, instantly regretting it as her heart began to thud heavily once again, her breath catching in her throat. She didn't understand this strange, unknown feeling. At all.

"Well…" She drew in a deep breath and hopped off of the desk, steadying herself as her knees seemed to buckle beneath her. "It was nice meeting you, Derek Shepherd… Again." Derek merely smiled, nodding in her direction.

"You too, Meredith Grey." Tearing her eyes from his, she slipped out of the room, not daring to breathe again until the door of the classroom was firmly shut behind her and her back pressed against it. What the hell?

ooooo

"Cristina, why do we do stupid things?" Meredith sighed, absentmindedly circling the edge of her wine glass with her index fingertip. Cristina raised her thin eyebrows.

"'We?'" she scoffed, "I didn't sleep with my supervisor."

"He wasn't my supervisor at the time."

"No, but you want sleep with him again." Meredith's eyes widened, and she stared at her friend in disbelief, though she couldn't hide the tell-tale reddening of her cheeks. Cristina merely smirked at her reaction.

"I do not!"

"Meredith, I know you. I haven't known you long, but I know you well enough. Hell, even Karev probably noticed you staring all doe-eyed and batting your pretty little eyelashes at Shepherd this morning-"

"Did not."

"Yeah, you did." Meredith sighed again. She tipped her head back and poured the last trickle of wine in her glass down her throat and swallowed hard, shuddering at its bitter taste. She paused, before ordering two shots of tequila and, once they had been poured and slid across the bar to her, stared at them for a few seconds, still not having responded to Cristina.

"He's McDreamy. I can't help it. He's McDreamy, and he has nice hair, and I'm expected to sit in a room with him, just him, and not want to screw his brains out? I mean, seriously? What am I supposed to do?"

"Not screwing his brains out would be a start."

"Easy for you to say." Meredith downed the first shot of tequila in one gulp; and then, instead of passing the other to Cristina, repeated the process with the second as well. She needed it.

"Meredith." Cristina quickly ordered yet another two shots, this time cradling one protectively in the cup of her hand, staring sternly at her friend. "If it gets out that you're sleeping with… _McDreamy_ , or whatever you want to call him, you'll be accused of whoring yourself out for grades and be kicked from the program."

"I'm not _sleeping_ with him, Cristina. Past tense."

"Try proving that to the Board of Governers. Or Professor Webber." The mere mention of Dr Webber's name sent an unusual shiver down Meredith's spine. She still couldn't shake the feeling that she knew the man from somewhere, but decided that she'd worry about it once she'd dealt with her more pressing issues.

"See, that's another thing. 'Professor'. Do I have to call McDreamy 'Professor Shepherd? Because that's just creepy. Ugh, you know what?" Again, she downed her shot, this time sliding the glass back across the bar and hopping off of the stool, offering Cristina a hand and smirking mischievously. The alcohol had zoomed straight to her head; the room spun pleasantly as she got to her feet. "I'm done talking about it. Let's go dance."

ooooo

Within the hour, the pair had consumed vast quantities of wine on top of what they'd already had. Alongside a couple of shots of tequila. Meredith soon found herself stood atop a table, trying not to stumble in her high heels. She laughed loudly, though this was mostly masked by the heavily thudding music pouring from the oversized speakers around the bar, which had adopted a nightclub feel once Happy Hour had ended. A gorgeous, toned man with a shirt unbuttoned to the centre of his chest, eyes dark, and stubble littering his chiselled cheekbones stood beside her, catching her in his strong arms as she nearly tripped over and fell off of the table. She laughed again. The man was warm, and he felt good. She didn't know who he was. She didn't know where Cristina was. All she knew was that this man wasn't Derek Shepherd, and that was good. Because she couldn't seem to get Derek Shepherd off of her brain, and she needed to. He was bad news. She needed to forget about him, and she didn't know why she couldn't; that had never happened to her before. She closed her fingers around the sides of the mystery man's shirt, pulling his chest to hers and planting an open-mouthed kiss on his lips, sliding her tongue drunkenly into his mouth. As she kissed him, she could think only one thing: he wasn't Derek Shepherd. And that was good. It was _meant_ to be good. Right?


	5. Dirty Little Secret

**Thanks again for the reviews :). This chapter is quite long but very bitty and jumpy, more like a filler really, so I'd really appreciate your opinions on how I could improve this if you're not overly keen on it. The ending is also really rushed .. I might re-edit at a later date.**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **Chloe xoxo**

Meredith groaned quietly, not having the energy to lift her head from the desk. Instead, she lifted her bottle of water to her lips, nearly dribbling some on the desk beneath her. She had to keep drinking water, else she was convinced she'd throw up. And she didn't think that would go down well right before her first lecture of the day.

"You look worse than me." A voice pierced her thoughts, sending a shooting pain through her head, which she slowly tried to lift as she felt a body collapse into the seat beside her. She was met by the equally tired-looking face of Alex, Cristina's flatmate, who was furiously rubbing his eyes, which were framed with dark circles.

"Can you not talk so loud? My head hurts," Meredith complained, before promptly dropping her head back down onto the desk again.

"Did the guy you screwed last night not have any aspirin at his house?" Alex sniggered. Eyes suddenly wide, Meredith sharply turned her head onto its side so that she could see him, instantly regretting the pain she was punished with.

"I woke up at yours. On the sofa in the kitchen. Are you saying I…?" Alex chuckled, though cringed at his body's reaction.

"Relax. I found you hurling your guts up outside the bar and me and Yang brought you home. You didn't screw anyone, for a change. Not quite, anyway." Meredith merely sighed and returned to her previous position, preferring the dark to the bright lights of the college auditorium. She really needed to work on her lifestyle so that she wasn't spending each morning of college wondering if or who she'd spent the previous night with. She'd end up with a reputation.

"Thanks, Alex."

"Anytime, Grey."

ooooo

Meredith tried to keep herself under control for the next couple of days, during which time she didn't touch a drop of alcohol and instead caught up on sleep and allowed her body to recover. Soon, however, it was Thursday evening, and the little group that she'd found herself falling into had decided that student night at the local bar was the perfect excuse to let loose after a solid week of lectures and tutorials. They had gathered in Meredith's kitchen to pre-drink before heading out in a much-needed attempt to save money. Izzie and George were sprawled across the rug on the floor, Alex on one of the sofa's, surrounded by half a dozen empty beer cans, and Meredith and Cristina on the other. Buying four bottles of vodka on discount had proved a brilliant idea on Izzie's part, as the five freshmen were highly intoxicated and mostly giggling heaps by this point in the evening, with the exception of Alex, who was chugging on his beer in a quieter, brooding manner. They were fully engrossed in a game of 'I Have Never', each hoping that the rest would forget their confessions in their drunken states.

"Alright, alright!" Izzie called over the roar of laughter and the music playing in the background, "I have never… Had sex in the same room as other people." Meredith simply grinned sheepishly before tipping the contents of her glass, pure, undiluted vodka, down her throat, spluttering at the disgusting taste. Her friends stared her, wide-eyed.

"What?! Have none of you ever been on a school camp before?" Meredith replied, with a small shrug, quickly thinking of her own contribution. "I have never stripped for cash." There was a hesitation, before Alex reluctantly sipped his beer, causing a squeal from Izzie as she clapped her hands with joy.

"Alex!"

"I was seventeen, and I was in a bar, and there was a hen party whose stripper had cancelled. I was being a good guy," he explained nonchalantly, "I have never… Sucked a dick. Go on, O'Malley, drink up." He snorted, as the three girls in the room all sipped their drinks, George merely glaring at his neighbour.

"That was crap, Karev. I've got one," Cristina announced, pushing herself onto her knees, "I have never had sex with someone I shouldn't have." Even in her drunken state, Meredith's heart caught in her throat. She couldn't. She really couldn't. She had to keep her little secret to herself, and she hoped that Cristina was sober enough to do the same. Again, Alex downed the remains of his drink before launching into an explanation.

"Fifteen. Lost my v-plates to the school nurse, Gemma. God, she was something else."

"You're such a pig," Izzie complained, crinkling her nose and sipping her vodka and coke.

"Eh, that's nothing," Cristina slurred, swigging her wine, "Meredith screwed our supervisor-"

"Cristina!" Meredith snapped. Her cheeks flared red as she shot her friend the wickedest of glares, dying inside. Cristina, barely realising what she had just said, shrugged her shoulders and mumbled a half-hearted apology. Alex snorted again.

"You screwed Shepherd?!"

"It's wasn't like that. I… I didn't know who he was."

"You still screwed Shepherd."

"Okay, can we not talk about this? Please? Let's just have some more to drink." Unable to look at any of her friends, Meredith scrambled to her feet and headed to the cupboard to retrieve another bottle of vodka. Izzie and George shot each other a silent, sideways glance, before George quickly tried to change the subject matter to give Meredith some relief. She paused, drawing in a slow intake of breath and releasing it again. Now, the cat was out of the bag, and she didn't know what the hell she was going to say to Derek in their supervision the next morning. So much for keeping their filthy little secret to herself.

ooooo

Derek kicked his phone with his foot so that it slid across to the other side of the room, the humming of the constant vibrations bothering him less when it wasn't right beside him. It was her, again. And she was clearly very drunk and very regretful, because she hadn't left him alone all evening. He hadn't spoken to her or Mark since the… Incident, and he preferred to keep it that way. Preston Burke, a good friend of his whom he had met during freshman year, raised an eyebrow as he re-entered the room with his refilled pint of beer.

"Addison again?" he asked, not really needing an answer. Derek didn't respond, merely taking another swig from his can. Preston sighed and collapsed onto the other sofa, retrieving Derek's phone and sliding it into the pocket of his own trousers after switching it off. "Why don't we go out tonight? Properly? We haven't hit the town for ages." Derek kinked an eyebrow.

"'Hit the town'?" he repeated, mockingly, "What are we, nineteen?" Preston shrugged.

"It was only a suggestion. Thought it might help you to forget her."

 _'_ _Yeah,'_ thought Derek to himself, _'if only Addison was the problem'_.

ooooo

Izzie exploded into hysterical laughter as she tottered, arm in arm with George, towards the entrance of the local nightclub, Alex and Cristina tagging along behind. All of the freshmen were extremely drunk by this point, and George was even slightly concerned that he wouldn't be allowed into the club. Meredith, meanwhile, hung back from the others. She was a happy drunk, a slutty drunk, but tonight, she felt different. She hated the fact that her new friends knew the gory details of her sex life, and she was still extremely pissed at Cristina. Right now, she didn't want to be going to a club to pump more toxins into her blood stream. She wanted to be… Well, she didn't want to think about where she wanted to be. She just didn't want to be here. Cristina glanced at her over her shoulder before pausing for a few seconds, allowing her step to fall into sync with Meredith's.

"Hey…" she mumbled, sheepishly, shoving her hands into the pockets of her skinny jeans, "I'm sorry I screwed up earlier." Meredith sighed.

"I'm the one who slept with my supervisor," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but Blabbermouth Barbie and Evil Spawn didn't need to know that." The pair followed the leaders into the short queue for the club, passing the bouncers in no time at all and stepping into the entrance hall. "At least you know McDreamy won't be out much, being a senior and all."

"I guess there is that." After paying an extortionate sum to enter and slipping onto the dancefloor, Meredith quickly looked around for people that she'd met on previous nights out. And then she locked eyes with him, and for a second, it felt like the rest of the world had stopped and they were the only people in the room. Then she remembered where she was and, more importantly, who he was, and everything crumbled - despite those piercing blue eyes. "Oh, crap."

"What?"

"He's here."


	6. Drunk In Love

**Sorry it's been such a long wait! I've been on holiday, and the last few days I've been working like a maniac and have been borderline passing out as soon as I get home, so here's a nice, juicy MerDer chapter to make up for it!**

 **I'm concerned that it's a bit out of character, so any thoughts on that would be much appreciated.**

 **Thank you for all of your lovely reviews, they mean a lot to me :).**

 **Chloe xxx**

Meredith was well aware that his eyes were fixated on her as she flirted shamelessly with the attractive, fair-haired man in front of her; they were boring into her delicate skin, and it was taking every ounce of her willpower to not glance over at him over her companion's shoulder. Instead, she forced a laugh. It was loud and false, but it did the trick – she noticed Derek sit up slightly straighter out of the corner of her eye. Behind her, Alex was watching the scene play out in from of him, a smirk playing on his lips. He nudged Izzie, who was perched on a bar stool with George propped up against the bar beside her, sharply in the side with his elbow.

"Ow! What?!"

"That's Shepherd," he replied, his voice low, nodding in Derek's direction. Izzie raised her eyebrows, a grin spreading across her face.

"Your supervisor?" she asked. Alex nodded in response. "Oh, boy, he really is McDreamy."

Meredith, oblivious to her audience, ran a hand expertly through her wavy blonde locks, her green eyes sparkling mischievously as she accepted the offer of a drink from her handsome suitor and followed him to the bar, not far from her friends. They watched, open-mouthed, as Derek rose to his feet and also made his way towards the bar, eventually slotting in only a few feet away from where Izzie was sat.

"I wonder if he's pissed. Do you think he looks pissed?" she hissed, almost a little too loudly in her drunken state, not able to tell that she could probably be heard over the music in the club. Alex shrugged.

"'Pissed' pissed, or pissed off?"

"Both."

"He doesn't look happy," Alex observed, taking a quick swig of his beer, also unaware of how loudly he was speaking, "Would you be, if you'd risked your career by screwing a student only to watch her drooling over some other guy a few days later?"

His lips pressed together in a tight frown, Derek pushed himself away from the bar, not waiting for his change, and moved in Meredith's direction, whose eyes widened as he came into view. He brushed past her, tipping his head slightly so that he could whisper into her ear.

"Meredith, I need a word."

"Can't it wait?" Meredith hissed in response, "I'm clearly busy."

"No. It can't." Derek grabbed her forearm with his free hand, though nowhere near tight enough to hurt her in any way, and led her through the busy bar to the corridor that led to the toilets, which was completely empty and in which the music outside was a mere thudding vibration.

"Ow! What the hell?" Meredith snapped, accidentally sloshing some of her red wine over the carpet in her intoxicated state as she tugged her arm out of his grasp.

"I could say the same to you," Derek responded. Though his voice was far softer and more hushed than hers, it was evident that he was equally as drunk due to the slur of his words. "You told your friends about us."

"Oh, please, do you really think that highly of yourself? Cristina told them. And besides, there is no 'us'. I barely remember it."

"You said it was our secret! You weren't supposed to tell _anyone_."

"Cristina doesn't count, she's my person," Meredith explained, downing the remainder of her wine and setting the glass down on the little table beside her, subtly using it to steady her balance in the process. Derek opened his mouth to retaliate, but they were interrupted as a couple of girls who looked as though they weren't old enough to be out of high school stumbled against each other towards the toilets, giggling loudly and shrieking indecipherable words. He waited a few seconds after they had disappeared into the toilets to continue with his rant.

"This could have huge repercussions for me. I could lose my teaching post, it could affect my final grades. It could go on my permanent record. Some of us actually care about our reputations-"

"Hey, what the hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"It means that some of us have spent the last three years focusing on getting into med school rather than flinging ourselves at any man who'd take us." Out of nowhere, Derek felt a sharp sting across his left cheek after it came into contact with the palm of her hand; as a result, he dropped his almost-empty bottle of beer to the floor, which bounced on the carpet and spilt the remains of its contents. Subconsciously, the pair had moved closer together; or rather, Derek had backed Meredith against the wall, and their bodies were mere inches away from each other by this point. They were so close that Meredith could feel the heat of his torso radiating against her barely-clothed skin, and she forced herself to ignore the goosebumps that the tension between them made appear across her arms and the increased thudding within her chest.

"Ironically, weren't you doing just that when you found me in that bar and seduced me?" she sneered in response, smug at her valid point. Derek almost laughed at her accusations.

"I seduced you?" he scoffed, drawing his face a little closer to hers. She was now able to feel his breathe against her skin; she trembled. "Is that the story now?"

"You got me drunk, kissed me and took me back to my place."

"Feel free to correct me, Meredith, but I'd say that's more 'taking advantage' than 'seducing'."

"You said it."

"But then again, you can't exactly call it 'taking advantage' either when you wanted it just as much as I did." Derek's smirk now matched hers, particularly when he noticed the slight blush that had crept up into the apples of her cheeks.

"And who says I want you?" Meredith asked before she could stop herself. 'Want'. Present tense. Her breath caught in her throat at her error, but Derek simply smiled.

"I do." He cupped her cheek in his hand and pressed a longing kiss to her lips, causing her to gasp in response. Their lips instantly parted, and their tongues drunkenly sloshed against one another's. His hand fell from her face to her tiny waist, his other resting against the wall behind them to steady himself. Meredith, meanwhile, was fully pressed into the wall, her own hands lingering on his chest. And then, they were making out against the wall of a nightclub toilet corridor, but it didn't feel dirty. It didn't feel wrong, like an inappropriate pornography, an explicit scene between teacher and student; it felt right. Meredith groaned in longing as his tongue massaged hers expertly, in spite of his drunken state, and as his thumb slid beneath the waistband of her skintight jeans and ran along her hipbone. She wrapped her arms around his strong neck, deepening their kiss and pulling their bodies closer so that she could feel every inch of him against her. She almost forgot where they were – that was, until the manic giggling pierced their little bubble of lust and caused Derek to jump away from her. The excitable teenagers scurried between the pair once again and, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, Meredith shot Derek an embarrassed look before darting through the doors to the bar behind them, not uttering a word.

"Meredith, wait!" he attempted to call after her, but it was too late; the door had already swung shut behind her, leaving him alone in the empty corridor. Meredith automatically made a beeline for the bar, desperate to feel the sharp sting of tequila down her throat. The one thing she'd told herself not to do, and she'd gone and messed it up. As always. Her mother would be so proud.


	7. Don't Waste Your Time

**Thank you for the lovely reviews :)**

ooooo

Meredith, Cristina and Alex had wedged themselves into the very back corner of their supervision classroom, all three with pounding headaches and bleary eyes the morning after the eventful night before. Alex hadn't even changed, intending to go home after the supervision and sleep through the rest of his lectures that day. Meredith groaned.

"I think I'm still drunk. And Alex, you still smell like tequila, you're not helping," she complained, screwing her nose up and narrowing her eyes at her friend, who merely held his hands up apologetically. He didn't trust himself not to throw up if he opened his mouth.

"Speaking of drunk, think Shepherd's a no-show?" Cristina asked, nodding at the clock on the wall opposite them, which indicated that it was almost quarter past nine, "I swear to god, if I've dragged myself here hanging like hell for him not to show, he'll be wearing his balls as earrings by the time I've-" Cristina's rant was cut short as Derek glided into the room and dropped his bag onto the desk, clearly in a rush.

"Sorry I'm late. I'm sure you all know what Thursday nights can be like." He lifted his head to smile apologetically at the room, but his eyes instantly met Meredith's, causing her heart to jolt and her entire body to stiffen. He looked exhausted. His eyes were bright red, and the bags under his eyes were heavy and almost looked like bruising. She couldn't help but wonder whether he'd even slept at all, or whether he'd taken some pretty brunette home and tumbled into bed with her in his drunken state… Then she remembered that she wasn't supposed to care. She wasn't interested. And _then_ she realised that she'd been staring at him for a good few seconds and promptly tore her eyes away, instead picking at her fingernails under the desk. Derek cleared his throat, his mind plagued with bitter memories of the night before. How his body had burned at the touch of her lips, the taste of her tongue exploding in his mouth. After that, the pain and humiliation that he'd felt as she'd brushed him aside and darted into the sea of sweaty bodies, and the way that the darkness had engulfed him as he'd curled up in bed alone. "Today, we're going to be carrying on from your lecture with Dr. Webber regarding the anatomy of the brain…"

ooooo

Meredith struggled to focus through the remainder of her supervision with Derek; partly, this was due to her immobilising hangover, and the other part was a result of her undeniable attraction to her teacher. She spent the hour attempting to reason with herself, convincing herself that it was perfectly acceptable and understandable to find the man attractive – as long as she didn't follow through with said attraction and continue to make out with him in nightclubs. Or, at all. She held this mindset as she made to follow Cristina out of the classroom, but stopped dead in her tracks as she felt a hand grab her wrist.

"I need to talk to you." His voice was seductive, and it sliced through the air around her. She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly, waiting for the other students to pass her before turning to face him. She tucked a loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear as she reluctantly met his eyes, instantly regretting it.

"This is becoming a habit, isn't it?" she pointed out, only half-joking. Derek sighed, propping himself up against his desk.

"We need to talk about what happened last night."

"No, we don't. We were drunk. We need to forget it ever happened."

"That didn't exactly work out for us last time and I can't see this time being any different." The way that a slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips melted her, and she found herself unable to control the surge of verbal diarrhea that suddenly overcame her.

"Derek, I'm attracted to you, okay? And there doesn't seem to be anything I can do to get over that, apart from avoiding you, which is pretty impossible considering I have to see you in supervisions twice week. So the only thing that I can think to do is to not talk to you, not even look at you, unless I absolutely have to." She froze as she realised what she'd said and allowed her eyes to flutter shut, trying to regulate her breathing and force it to return to normal. A brief silence fell upon the pair, before Derek's soft utterings eventually shattered it.

"I know…" he hesitated, quickly running his eyes over her and assessing the situation, "I feel it, too. But you're my student, and I'm going through some crap right now. It still can't happen again." Both had failed to notice that they had slowly crept closer together once again, until Meredith could feel the oh-so-familiar tingling across every pore of her skin. _Control yourself, idiot_. She sucked in a sharp breath, before nodding slowly and forcing a smile to appear on her tightly-pressed lips.

"Okay. Then we're good, and I'm going to go now, I'll see you Monday." She turned sharply on her heel and scurried to the door, however, just as her fingertips grazed the door handle, Derek's voice made her freeze in her place once again.

"Give me the weekend," he decided, unable to simply allow her to walk away from him, "Just… Give me time to work out what to do." She didn't reply; she left without another word, though with a genuine smile now playing on her lips.

ooooo

Derek was sprawled out on the sofa of the little flat he'd shared with Addison, fourth-year neurology textbook opened to a random page in his lap. He'd intended on some hardcore studying that evening, however, was irritated to find that his mind was in other places and he couldn't concentrate. Meredith had spiraled into his life like a little drunken whirlwind right when he'd needed it the least, when the memories and scars that Addison had left him with were still split open and red raw. When she'd left, he'd vowed to stay far away from women for the foreseeable future – they were trouble, and they lied, and they cheated, left, right and centre. Well, that's what he'd gathered from his experience, anyway. It had only ever been Addison. She'd been his first love, the love of his life, or so he'd thought at the time. But that had been before she'd thrown away a solid, stable, three-year relationship for the sake of one meaningless night. They were supposed to be planning their wedding. Instead, Derek found himself unable to shrug the image of the pretty blonde he'd met only days prior from his mind, the pretty blonde who just so happened to be his student and who could leave his education and reputation in tatters in a heartbeat. As much as he assumed that she was just like any other lying, cheating woman and wasn't worth throwing his career away over, he also couldn't shake the feeling that she was different to anyone that he'd ever met before. A sharp knock at the door pierced his deep thoughts, and Derek sighed as he reluctantly rose to his feet and trudged across the hallway before slowly pulling it open. And there he was. He was six feet tall and muscular, which made him almost tower over Derek. Dashes of stubble framed his chiseled jaw, leading up to his perfectly-styled hair. And those eyes, the baby blue eyes that shattered women's hearts upon even a glance, were stark against his tanned skin.

"Shep." A cheeky, almost smug grin crept up on Mark's face as his eyes lit up at the sight of his best friend. Or ex-best friend, as he had been since Derek had found him in bed with his fiancée. And in one swift movement, Derek raised his arm, and didn't flinch as he smacked his 'friend' across his well-defined jaw with his clenched fist.


	8. Hopelessly Devoted to You

**I just want to check, guys, you're not finding this fic too repetitive, are you? I know it's very supervision-drunk-supervision-drunk, but I will try to make it more varied, I promise.**

 **I'm also working on a plan for a brand new MerDer fic, a completely new concept that I don't think's been done before, it's very fantasy-based with a bit of horror weaved into it as well. I'm excited, so watch this space :D.**

 **Thanks again for all of the lovely reviews; I'm enjoying making this fic very frustrating for all of the MerDer fans, because I think a fic without a bit of MerDer resistance wouldn't really be MerDer, it'd all be too easy :).**

 **Chloe xoxo**

ooooo

"Okay…" Mark grumbled, standing back up straight and cupping his throbbing cheek with his hand, his expression hurt, "That hurt, and was uncalled for."

"It was perfectly called for," came Derek's reply as he promptly turned his back on Mark and moved back into the living room, "You shouldn't be here."

"So you're not going to invite me in?" Mark's cheeky grin had reappeared, but Derek wouldn't look at him, instead resuming his slouch on the sofa and cracking open a can of beer. He shrugged.

"Do what you want." Hesitantly, Mark stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind him, before shuffling over towards the living room and pushing himself up onto the breakfast bar, reaching over to the counter and grabbing his own can of beer.

"I've missed you, Shep."

"Not the time for affection, Mark," Derek snapped in response, taking a long swig of his beer before finally turning to look at his former friend, "Where have you been, anyway?"

"You know, around. I went back to the Big Apple for a while. Saw Mom-"

"You spoke to Mom?" Derek suddenly sat up straight, his eyes widening. He had failed to tell his beloved but fussy mother that he'd left his fiancée after she'd slept with the man she'd raised as her second son in all of the drama that had happened since he'd found himself a single man.

"Don't worry, I told her everything. And she slapped me a few times, told me I was a dick and sent me straight back here to make up with you," Mark admitted, smiling sheepishly. He'd always had a soft spot for Derek's biological (and his makeshift) mother; to have her ashamed of him had made him feel worse than the heartbreak that he'd caused his own best friend had.

"We're not making up." Derek quickly drained the remains of his beer before screwing the empty can into a ball, tossing it into the bin in the corner of the room and opening another. "You screwed my fiancée. We're definitely not making up." Mark watched him in silence for a while, noting that he seemed unusually absent of emotion and that he was downing alcohol faster than an alcoholic at happy hour. Derek had always been the studious type – it was he who had been the party animal growing up, in fact, Derek's mom had always joked that Mark had done all of Derek's partying for him.

"There's something wrong," he observed, studying him closely as Derek merely kinked an eyebrow, "And it's something to do with a chick… Have you heard from Addie lately?"

"Don't even mention her name to me," Derek barked, anger suddenly clouding his face, "You have no right, Mark. We were _happy_. For Christ's sake, we were getting married, we were planning our wedding, _you_ were going to be my best man because there was no one else in this world that I wanted up there with me other than you. But no, you're Mark Sloan, you can't keep it in your pants and don't care who you screw over in the process. The best man and the bride. You're a walking cliché." Derek drew in a deep breath, but he'd far from finished the rant that had built up inside him ever since he'd found his best friend writhing around under a duvet with the woman he'd planned to marry and had shared a bed with for three years. "No, I haven't heard from Addie. And I don't want to. It wouldn't bother me if I never heard from either of you again for the rest of my life, Mark, so why don't you take your goddamn, half-hearted apology and get the hell out of my apartment." With a sigh, Mark drained the remainder of his beer, set it on the breakfast bar, and quickly left the flat without uttering another word, leaving Derek consumed by his problems and emotions once again.

ooooo

The weekend passed. During which time, Meredith hadn't heard a peep from Derek like he'd promised; no phone call, no visit, not even a text, nothing. She'd tried to focus on catching up with college work, but had been unable to concentrate, continually worried that she would lose phone signal and miss his call. She sickened herself, this wasn't like her at all. She didn't care. She went out, slept with random and inappropriate men, but never allowed herself to get attached to them because attachment was always a problem. If her mother had taught her anything in life, it was that. Well, that and anything she'd ever learned about medicine. So throughout the entirety of her supervision on Monday morning with the One and Only, she stared at him, her eyes narrowed into venomous slits to show him that she was not going to be messed around like a stupid little plaything.

"Bastard," she hissed under her breath, causing Cristina to roll her her to one side and raise an eyebrow at her friend.

"I thought you didn't care?" she mocked, smiling knowingly.

"I'm not the one who doesn't care," she responded, without tearing her gaze from Derek, who, smartly, was refusing to meet her eyes, "He doesn't care. Even if the 'crap' he'd going through involves a wife, three kids and a dog, it would still be nice to keep me in the loop rather than leave me hanging like left out Christmas decorations in January."

"So what are you going to do, Mer, sit here glaring at him all day?"

"Yes. Maybe then he'll realise that you don't mess with us Grey women." As the bell rang shrill, Cristina sighed, scraping her chair back and gathering her textbook and notebook in her arms.

"Suit yourself. I'll see you in Burke's lecture." Meredith didn't budge as the rest of her supervision class quickly filed out of the room, eager to get to the canteen. After wiping his diagram of the human brain from the whiteboard, Derek turned around, letting out a sigh when he saw that she was still in her seat.

"Meredith-"

"No, shut up, I'm talking. You had your chance to put your story across, now it's my turn. I waited all weekend. You said you'd call me, and you never did. That's a really lame thing to do, Derek, that's the sort of thing you expect boys to do to you in high school, not grown men who are in their senior year of college. If you've got problems, I don't care, just tell me. Tell me about the wife, and the kids, and the dog – anything's better than letting me sit waiting like an idiot," Meredith gushed, her face strained in anger, her cheeks flushed. Her hair was scraped back from her face in a mid-height ponytail, yet she still looked adorable, which Derek had already noticed. He frowned.

"What wife?"

"Your wife. Or your kids, or whatever it was that meant that you couldn't even text me at any point over the last forty eight hours."

"Seriously, Meredith, do you really not understand what I meant when I said I was going through some crap at the moment? I meant real, serious, 'grown-up' crap, crap that you probably wouldn't understand, because at the end of the day, you're still just a kid. You left high school last year. You've only just moved out of home, you're probably not used to coping without Mommy making you breakfast and tying your shoelaces. When you've learnt what it's like to be a grown up, come and find me," Derek snapped, still highly on edge after his run-in with Mark, having spent the majority of his weekend drunk and alone. He couldn't even think straight, and the last thing he needed was to be bothered by a petulant child. Meredith paused for a moment, shocked by his outburst, before angrily pushing herself to her feet and folding her arms across her chest.

"You know, if you'd bothered to find out anything about me before or after you screwed me, you'd know how much that assumption makes you a jerk." Grabbing her textbook, she shot Derek a filthy, hurt look before storming from the room and slamming the door shut behind her. Full of regret, Derek furiously rubbed his eyes, wishing that all of the problems that had built up in his life over the past couple of weeks would just disappear so that he could be normal again.


	9. Because of You

**I'm so sorry this update has taken so long - my laptop broke last week so I had to wait for it to be prepared :(.**

 **I don't think I like this chapter. I don't know why. I could really use some opinions on it - I might tweak it slightly later on. More MerDer frustrating-ness! I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm determined to keep MerDer very will-they-won't-they for a while, just because I'd get so bored if they just got together. What would I have left to write about?**

 **Still debating whether to start my other project, as it'd mean slower updates for this fic, but it's so tempting and hasn't really been done before! :')**

 **Chloe xoxo**

ooooo

Meredith released a pent-up sigh as she absentmindedly flicked over yet another page of her 'Foundations of Biomedical Science' textbook, pretending to herself that she was taking in the hundreds of words that her eyes were straining to read. She could hear the faint hum of George's insanely cheesy chart music from his room across the hallway, and the happy chime of Izzie's laughter accompanying it. She wished that she could relax and allow herself to join them, to have fun and laugh and smile like they could, but she simply couldn't. She'd told them that she'd had multiple lectures to catch up on, which was true, but the main reason for her anti-socialism was her anger at herself for allowing her first week of college to go so terribly. She'd expected a week full of drink, dancing, and emotionless sex with strangers. Instead, she'd slept with one stranger and ended the week with a broken heart and had fallen behind with her work already. This wasn't what college life was supposed to be about. She didn't flinch at the gentle knock on the main door of the flat, nor at the light thudding of Izzie's feet as she jogged to the door and wrenched it open.

"Oh, hey…" Meredith did, however, glance up when she heard her bedroom door creak open. That was one of the rules of living in a shared college flat; if your door wasn't locked, it was fair game to your flatmates. "Mer? You've got a visitor." Izzie was stood beside a sheepish-looking Derek, and she flashed her friend a small, encouraging smile before disappearing back into George's room and not-so-subtly leaving the door on the latch, just wide enough for the pair to be able to earwig into Meredith's conversation. Meredith drew in a deep breath, uncrossing her legs and propping her back up against the wall, kicking her textbook aside. She eyed Derek up and down, cursing internally at the familiar flutter that his undeniable good looks caused in her chest. She waited, but he didn't speak, merely closing the door behind him; firmly, she noted.

"What?"

"Hello to you, too."

"You showed up in my room. It's not my job to talk," Meredith snapped, sulkily turning her head so that she was staring straight at the wall opposite her instead of at him.

"I came here to say that I was sorry. For being an arse."

"You were an arse."

"I know." Derek raised a hand and indicated her bed. "Can I sit down?" Reluctantly, Meredith nodded, still refusing to look at him as she shuffled to the side. Once she could feel the heat of his body beside her, however, she couldn't help but want to cuddle into his inviting jumper. Then she cursed herself again.

"This week has been weird. I feel like I know you, but I don't. And you don't know me. You're not meant to, I was a one-night stand."

"I don't know if you've noticed, Meredith, but you certainly don't feel like a one-night stand to me." Meredith considered his statement thoughtfully, toying one bare foot against the other, her legs also completely naked as her mini shorts had risen to barely graze her thighs. Her toenails were painted burgundy red – and chipped, as she noted now. She chewed gently on her lower lip for a few seconds before hesitantly speaking.

"My mom hasn't made me breakfast since I was five and we moved to Boston." Intrigued, Derek adjusted his position so that he was facing her, propped up on one arm. "After that, our cook started making it for me, and always drowned my cereal in milk, so I used to drain it over the sink when she wasn't watching. Sometimes I just didn't eat. Mom would never have noticed, she usually went to work long before I woke up because of some early morning surgery or whatever. And she often wouldn't come home until midnight either, so our cook made me dinner as well. Mom knew every single detail of her patients' medical histories, but never even knew that her only child went through a brief period of time where she was allergic to blueberries." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Derek's puzzled frown. "My mom is Ellis Grey," she explained. Derek raised his eyebrows, annoyed at himself for not having made the connection himself. Now that he thought about it, Meredith was the spitting image of a young Ellis Grey, at least from the many photographs of the surgical legend that had adorned the pages of his pre-med textbooks.

"You should have said."

"Why would I? I don't know your mom's name."

"Point taken," Derek accepted, with a small smile. "Her name's Carolyn, for the record. And I have four sisters."

"I bet you're Golden Boy, aren't you?" He shrugged, amused.

"You could say that."

"What about your dad?"

"He died when I was twelve."

"Oh." Meredith hesitated, awkwardly. There had been times where she'd despised her father over the last thirteen years, but she couldn't imagine how she'd feel if she was to find out that he was dead. "I don't know where my dad is. I know him, it's not like my mom was a whore who got drunk on tequila and screwed some guy." _Like you did_. "I just don't remember him that well." Derek merely shrugged. He wriggled a little closer to Meredith, who found herself subconsciously doing the same, rolling over onto her side to face him. They were mere inches away from each other, but the close position felt so natural.

"I still think of myself as lucky. I had two parents who loved me. I still have one who does."

"And then there's me. No one has told me they loved me since I last saw my father. Even then, I don't think he meant it." _What the hell_? Meredith didn't realise that she was crying until she felt a telltale tear slip down her cheek, which she quickly rubbed away before Derek noticed her pain. Unfortunately, he was far too observant. Giving her a small, encouraging smile, he delicately wiped underneath her eye with the pad of his thumb, allowing it to linger on her cheek.

"Who couldn't love you?" he asked, earnestly, his voice lowering to be barely above a whisper. She could feel that pull again. The touch of his hand was scorching hot against her skin. God, she wanted to kiss him. Unable to stop herself, she felt her body shift closer to his, her breath shaky as she imagined the taste of his lips against her own mouth. Her eyelids fluttered shut. She could feel his closeness, until a sharp knock at the door pierced through the tension and she leapt away from him, a split second before her bedroom door burst open to reveal Izzie and George grinning back at them from the hallway, completely oblivious to the situation that they had rudely interrupted.

"We're about to make lasagne. You guys want any?" Izzie asked, running a hand through her long, blonde, shampoo-ad hair. Derek shot Meredith a small smile, accompanied by a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

"I'm good, thank you. I should be going now anyway. Good catching up with you, Meredith. I'll see you Wednesday." Derek rose to his feet, eventually tearing his eyes from Meredith, whose rosy cheeks and evident heavy breathing only heightened her attractiveness, and slipped from the room. He still didn't have the faintest idea what to do or how to feel. One thing he did know, however, was that until he did, it wouldn't be fair to put a young girl as vulnerable as Meredith through the kind of heartbreak that he was bound to bring.


	10. Chandelier

**Drunk whores on tequila. Rushed update so I'm sorry; short but sweet. I'm so excited about my new fic, which is thoroughly planned and well under way. I'll let you know when it's up and ready :).**

 **Love you all, thank you for the reviews. xoxo**

ooooo

Meredith wrinkled her button nose as the earthy scent of cheap red wine wafted across the table to her nostrils as Cristina filled two glasses of wine almost to the brim, before placing the bottle in between them. She pulled a face.

"Is that seriously the only alcohol you have?" Cristina shrugged.

"I like wine. It's good for the soul."

"You know what's also good for the soul? Tequila."

"It's not really a tequila kind of night," she pointed out, though when she noticed Meredith drop her gaze and glance down at her fingernails, she raised her fine eyebrows. "Is it a tequila kind of night?" Meredith hesitated briefly, before finding herself unable to hold back her babbling.

"McDreamy makes me all fuzzy. And that's really bad, because he's my teacher, and teachers aren't meant to make their students fuzzy, but I can't help it. And he came to see me yesterday, and we talked, and now I'm worried I make him fuzzy too. I just… When I'm with him, I just feel… Different. Good different. I don't worry about college or home or the pressure of being Ellis Grey's kid. I just feel like… Well, me." Cristina's mouth had dropped open, though she quickly snapped it shut at Meredith's glare.

"You're Ellis Grey's kid?"

"Accept it and move on. I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, well… God, that's a lot to take in…" Cristina mumbled, sitting back in her chair and taking a large gulp of wine, a move which Meredith mimicked, though she cringed at the taste. "Have you told McDreamy that he makes you fuzzy?"

"I don't really get a chance to, every time I see him I end up sucking his face off." Once again, Cristina's eyes grew wide, partly in hurt that her new friend had failed to tell her her juicy gossip. Meredith rolled her own eyes, before draining the wine from the glass that she had been nursing. "We made out when we went out last week. And then we almost kissed last night. So that's twice that we've hooked up drunk, and one almost-hook up sober. And then there have been a couple of times after supervisions that I so could have just reached over his desk and ripped his smart little shirt off."

"You know, for someone who thinks it's wrong to be screwing her teacher, you're giving a pretty bad demonstration of those morals," Cristina observed, automatically refilling Meredith's glass as she sighed wistfully.

"I can't help it. He's just so…"

"Dreamy?" Cristina finished for her, earning another sigh in agreement from her friend. She hesitated, before slamming her glass down on the table decisively, causing Meredith to jump. "Screw it. Maybe it is a tequila kind of night. Let's go out."

"We have a supervision tomorrow."

"That didn't stop us Thursday night. Hell, that didn't stop Shepherd Thursday night, and he's our teacher." Slowly, a little relieved smile appeared on Meredith's lips, and she nodded her head in agreement.

"Let's go out."

ooooo

Neither Meredith nor Cristina had intended to get as drunk as they did. It was meant to be a tame night, with enough vodka that Meredith could forget about her problems and maybe kiss a few boys, but not knocking the pair of them unconscious or threatening their next day's education. But something had gone wrong at the bar, and Meredith could only assume it was the five Sambuca shots each that she'd stuck on her credit card, a gift from her mother for moving away to college and leaving her in peace. Meredith groaned, holding herself up by leaning back against the bar and gripping onto the stool beside her. The room was spinning. She tried to focus on a dancing man in a hilarious-looking gold shirt, but he simply blurred into the woman in pink dancing next to him. She giggled involuntarily. Where was Cristina? Cristina?

"Cristina?" she tried to call, but her voice was lost beneath the heavy bass of the club music. She looked around, somewhat panicked. And then she spotted her, and, breathing a sigh of relief, squinted in an attempt to focus on her friend. Cristina had moved into the shadows of the club, though the electric blue dress that she had 'thrown on' before leaving her flat made her unmissable. Meredith raised her eyebrows. Cristina was suddenly blocked by the tall, dark-skinned man who was unashamedly sucking her face off, his arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. Meredith tore her eyes away, trying not to let her thoughts wander to her own boy issues. This was her night to forget about her problems, and _Cristina_ was hooking up with random men. She sighed.

"Jesus Christ…" she mumbled, plucking her tequila shot from the bar and tipping it down her throat, before wandering into the centre of the room, in amongst the sea of bodies convulsing as one. She danced – or, attempted to, at least. And as she moved, she accidentally caught the eye of a doe-eyed, shy-looking boy with floppy hair who definitely didn't look old enough to be a freshman. He was watching her, longingly. She grinned.

"Hi," she greeted him, eagerly. He was shuffling awkwardly from side-to-side with his group of friends, so she reached out and grabbed his hand, tugging him into the centre of the dancefloor. He laughed, and she placed her arms around him, pulling him close to her. Her last tequila shot fizzed to her brain, completely clouding her judgment. She could barely hear the music in the background through the fog in her brain. She forced her slim body to grind expertly in time with the music, and looked up into his dark eyes, which had a clear hint of mischief behind them. She grinned wider. He wasn't some innocent and inexperienced fresh-out-of-high-school-er. He knew exactly what he was doing. Then, her mind blurred. And then, she could feel lips against hers and an arm slide down her waist and cup her backside. She was kissing him, and he wasn't McDreamy. He definitely wasn't McDreamy. Even in her drunken haze, she couldn't tear McDreamy from her mind – she wanted to be kissing him instead.

ooooo

Meredith forced a gasp as the naked, sweaty figure atop her slid a hand underneath her and grasped her buttcheek tightly, writhing against her. She tried to relax, tried to enjoy herself. He was good, there was no denying that the kid knew exactly what he was doing, exactly where to touch her. But Meredith's mind was plagued by flashbacks of Derek's muscular chest pressed against hers, fitting perfectly. Or the way that he breathily uttered her name between urgent gasps, his fingers moving expertly across her body. When she was suddenly brought crashing back to present and she remembered that she wasn't here with Derek, her chest hurt, so painfully that it felt like it would explode. She squeezed her eyes shut as a tear escaped and slipped down her cheek, though she tried not to show this and kept her hips moving in time with the stranger's. She wanted Derek. Not this. She didn't want some drunken one-night stand. What the hell had he done to her?


End file.
